Welcome To Hell
by Trivial Pursuit
Summary: A new girl arrives at Sky High who brings along more questions then answers.
1. Chapter 1: Hell in the Sky

**Disclamer: I don't own Sky High, Pulp Fiction, The Spice Girls, The Ramones, Belle de Jour, The Prince, or War and Peace **

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

I roll over, my hand scrabbling on the floor for something to throw at my fucking alarm clock, all I come up with is a spiky black stiletto which promptly gets imbedded into the wall mere millimeters away from the clock. Then I remember, today is my first day at Sky High. Maybe I could just skip, that would be kinda boring but it would make that Powers chick pissed off and that alone might be worth it, then as I roll out of bed a note taped to the closet catches my eye, it simply says '_Don't even _think_ about it_.' I dejectedly roll out of bed and slide over to my closet, ripping the note down and tossing it on the floor as I pass. I decide today is a day to dress to impress; I pull on black fishnet stockings. I then shimmy my butt into a black leather miniskirt and pull over my head a black and red _Rocket to Russia_ concert tee shirt. I start fishing around under my bed for what my Auntie Belle calls my black leather 'fuck-me' boots, in the process I find my favorite bra, three letters saying my method of dress will not be tolerated, one of my garters, a suspension notice, three different mismatched shoes and my boots. I clomp downstairs, putting my boots on and walking at the same time without falling, a technique I perfected at a young age.

'Good bye!' I shout to the empty house, before grabbing a croissant and my bag and dashing out the door. When I get outside I am met by a bit of a shock. 'She has got to be fucking kidding me.'

Outside the gates of my house sat the giant yellow Sky High school bus, the bus driver gave me a distrusting look before swiveling the doors open. I walk down the aisle to the back seat, it is empty, so I slump down and pull out my book, Machiavelli's _The Prince_, and start to read, a few stops later I become aware of a boy standing over me.

'You're in my seat.' he states

'Oh, gee, well then I'll just get up and move since you asked so politely.' I shoot back sarcastically. I see fire start to light up along his arm. 'Wow, real mature. But you know what? Since I'm such a nice and reasonable person I'll move my crap off half the seat and we can share, it's a novel concept that we learned in preschool.' He slumps down, pulls out a book, and starts to read. It's _War and Peace_, big book for a guy who doesn't look too bright. He breaks the silence first.

'Are you new?'

'No nimrod, you've never seen me before because I'm secretly fucking invisible.'

'Cute.'

'I'm not cute, I'm fucking fabulous.'

'So you've never been on the second half of the bus ride?'

'One could assume that since I'm new I have not.' He smiles self satisfied-ly. Then a couple of massive roller coaster-esque seat belts slide down. He smirks, I stare him down. Then the bus lifts off, I turn back to my book, he looks majorly pissed off, and this was obviously supposed to be my comeuppance for taking his seat. The bus lands and everyone files out of the bus.

'Miss Cain, how lovely of you to join us.' says Principal Powers, seeing the principal, the crowd parts around me.

'Well I couldn't resist that charming invitation you left me this morning.' She gives me the evil eye before shooting off without her usual cry of 'Comets Away', I knew that was just an act.

I trudge off to Power Placement with a group of freshmen. Standing in the middle of the gym is a man I immediately recognize as Tommy 'Sonic Boom' Boomowski, the now Coach Boomer, a guy with a reputation as a hard-ass. I like him already.

'Okay Probies, Power Placement is easy; you get up on stage and show me your power. If it's a lame ass power, you're a Sidekick, of it's decent, Hero. Capice?' Boomer goes through about seven kids, four sidekicks and three heros, before he calls my name. 'Cain, Enola' His eyes visibly widen at the name.

'What can you do?' In response I pull a knife out of my boot, roll up my tee shirt, and stab myself in the stomach. My body crumples on the floor, but the darkness pushes me back to the living once more. I sit up, gasping for air and slide the still impaled knife out of my midsection. Everyone gapes at me.

'But wait there's more!' I say in my best infomercial announcer voice. I rolled up my sleeves, and held out my fingers, wiggling them like a concert pianist, suddenly a freshman in the back starts to do a perfect imitation of John Travolta's dance from _Pulp Fiction_, then I flick my fingers, and everyone starts to do the Electric Slide, even Coach Boomer. I release them but not before giving the Coach a look that says that I could have made them do _whatever_ I wanted without question.

'Can you do anything else?' Boomer snarks a little shakily.

'Well... I can do a mean Spice Girls.' Boomer seems slightly exasperated.

'Hero.'


	2. Chapter 2: A Plethora of Clichés

Author's Note: Thank you all for alerting and stuff. I would also like to thank Lettuce B. Frank for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

At lunch period all the people are pointing and staring at me. I slump down at an empty table with my book, I don't like to eat lunch. A random red-head with Princess Leia buns walks up to me.

'Hi, I'm Layla.' I stare at her with blank eyes, trying to rely the message to fuck off, evidently it wasn't getting through. I idly wonder if her hairstyle could impede her ability to comprehend. 'I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with my friends and I?'

'Well, as you can clearly see, I have no food and am therefore not eating, I am reading something which is typically a solitary activity.' Her cheeriness is pissing me off, but I can tell that she isn't going to leave without me. 'Fine.' I gather up my book and bag and follow her over to her table. Crap, the hothead I fought with over the seat was there. He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. ' Don't be too flattered Hot Lips, I'm only here because the Flower Child insisted.' I can tell the nickname pisses him off.

'Guys this is Enola, she's new. This is my boyfriend Will,' Layla gestures to a guy who looked like he was in a pageant to be Captain America Junior, for some reason he reminds me of something bad, but I push the feeling to the back of my mind, 'Magenta and her boyfriend Zach,' She points out a girl who is a little too in love with her namesake for my tastes and a boy who looks like a highlighter, 'Ethan, but we all call him Popsicle,' a skinny black kid wearing bright orange, 'And I see you've already met Warren.'

'Ahh... So tall, dark and mysterious does have a name.'

'Oh no! What am I to do? You've discovered my secret identity!' Warren deadpans, maintaining an admirable poker face all the while.

'Mwah-ha! Now I can use your secret to take over the world!' His friends eyes bounced back and forth during the exchange, their eyes becoming steadily wider and their jaws hitting their chests. The moment is ruined by a ball of blue and blonde icy annoyance streaking over and jumping into Warren's lap.

'And this is Warren's girlfriend Jessica...' Layla says reluctantly, the distaste dripping from her voice as Jessica and Warren start to, if my angle is anything to judge by, eat each other's faces. The Pyro and the Cryo, such a cliché.

'Charmed, I'm sure.' I smirk as the others snicker. Jessica and Warren don't notice. 'It's like watching a soft-core porno.' I stage whisper and everyone starts laughing outright, as the two lovebirds straighten their clothes and disentangle themselves form each other. The bell sounds and Layla starts to walk me to my new next class.

'So why was everyone looking at me weird when you invited me over to your table?'

'Well.. There was the whole 'Save-the-School' thing last year.' I give her a confused look. 'We saved the school from Will's evil psycho-bitch ex-girlfriend last year at homecoming. Where were you the last two years anyway?'

'Well to get into Sky High a parent needs to enroll you. My dad's dead and my mom's...missing.' The shit with my parents is just way to complicated to explain sober. 'Anyway, I spent the last two years in normal school until Principal Powers found me and the rest is history.' For a moment I'm afraid Layla will ask about my parents or how Powers found me, but she doesn't, I should've known better, she's more the wait-for-it-all-to-come-out type, or at most the hack-into-the-permanent-records type.

'Anyway, today you'll be inaugurated into the great Sky High tradition that is 'Save the Citizen'. It's Coach Boomer's favorite game so we play it more then half the time in gym class.' She spends the rest of the walk explaining to me the intricacies of Save the Citizen. We changed into our gym strip in silence, I'm wearing a black tank top with Fucking Fabulous written across the chest and red shorts with a pair of red trainers. Today we were playing, surprise, surprise, Save the Citizen!

'Okay Peace and Stronghold, I assume you'll be heros. So who do you want?' Boomer yelled

'Cain and Speed.' Great, let's play Get the New Girl. I walk to the Villain side of the court while Speed straps on his armor.

'Cain, why aren't you putting on armor?' Boomer yelled

'What are they gonna do Coach, kill me?' I smirk and for the first time I see fear cross Will and Warren's cocky expressions. Then it starts. Obviously experienced with Speed's brand of fighting, he's down for the count five seconds in. Then they encounter me. I stick out my fingers, and they freeze like statues, I'm not feeling the need for public humiliation today so they simply stay still, Warren fights me all the way, but Stronghold's resistance goes limp after a few minutes. The timer sounds and the 'Citizen' drops onto the waiting blades.

'I win.' I whisper and turn and walk out of the deathly silent gym.


	3. Chapter 3: Girls in Trees

Author's Note: If anybody has any story ideas you want me to incorporate please drop me a line and I'd be happy to consider them.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The new girl is incredibly weird, I saw when we were in gym that her forearms and back were covered in scars and tattoos, plus her and Powers' bizarre conversation outside the school, her being quite possibly the only person in the school who doesn't hate Coach Boomer, and who he doesn't hate in return, the other teachers' odd reactions around her, and just her general demeanor. And even though I have a girlfriend I find her incredibly sexy, hell, every other red-blooded male in our school probably feels the exact same way.

On the bus she's sitting in my spot reading a _Watchmen_ comic.

'Doesn't this seem a little lame after living the life?' I ask gesturing to the comic.

'Sometimes what's in here seems better then what's out there.' She says softly

'Even thought Catwoman gets her heart ripped out and Gwen gets pushed off a building?' She smiles but her eyes give me a look that says she would trade places with Catwoman in an instant and turns back to her comic.

~o~

After Gym, Mad Science is quite possibly the best class ever. On the plus side, Dr. Medulla, chemistry, and mechanics, on the minus, lots of homework, safety goggles, and Warren as my lab partner.

Since that conversation on the bus I've caught him staring at me, looking like he's trying to crack open my mind, so I've started avoiding him, sitting behind a tree reading at lunch, avoiding playing him in Save that Citizen, which isn't hard considering nobody wants to play against me any more, sitting at the front of the bus, and just generally ignoring him. I'm sitting in the crook of an old oak behind the Sidekick wing when he finds me.

'Hey.' He startles me and I almost fall from my spot.

'Jesus Warren, you make a habit of creeping up on girls in trees?'

'What's wrong?'

'Well Hot Lips, a better question to ask would be 'what's right?'' He gives me a look that says in a few seconds he's gonna smack me if I don't stop talking in riddles. 'It's a long and confusing story.' I slide a cigarette between my lips and gesture to his finger for a light, which he gives.

'Well I don't know about you but I got Sidekick-Hero Relations next and I was planning on skipping that anyway, so I got time.'

'Someday I'll tell you the whole story, but today I'll give you the abridged version. My mother and father went to Sky High, after they graduated they made some bad life decisions,' I'm making it sound like my father took a few thousand from his place of employment, or my mother slept with her boss for a promotion. 'They kinda fucked up my childhood.'

'What do you mean? Were they abusive?'

'No, nothing so dramatic as that, they loved their jobs and I paid the price.' He slides out of the tree and holds his hand out for me to follow. I grip his hand and jump off the branch.

~o~

Layla ambushes me after school.

'So, 'shouseandallhelpeachotherwith hourhomework,you'recomingright?' She says super fast.

'Uhhh...-'

'Great!' When the bus gets to Will's stop she drags me off the bus with everyone else and I see the house and that dislodges my memory revolving around Will. His last name is _Stronghold_. As in the Commander and Jetstream. Fuck. My. Life.

Before I know how to react Layla's pushing me towards the house.


	4. Chapter 4: Fun With the Commander

Author's Note: For those who were confused, yes, the first bit of Chapter 3 and the last bit of this chapter was Warren's POV. Virtual kisses to everyone who's reviewed or favourite or alerted. I love ya'll!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Surprisingly, for the first two hours I have a lot of fun, we help each other with our homework and just generally have a laugh. Then the Commander comes home.

'Will, I'm home!' The Commander calls jovially

'In the living room Dad!' I shrink into the corner, trying to escape notice. Fate, of course, has other plans, or maybe the Commander is just king dumbass.

'And who's this love...' He stops talking when he catches my eye. Recognition flashes before I do the one thing I promised myself I would never do if I met the Commander. I run.

I grab my laptop and bag, launch myself over the coffee table, dash past the Commander, who seems to be in some kind of trance, push out the door and vault over the fence. I don't stop running until I get home. I play Metallica on full volume all night and smoke half a pack of cigarettes to try to drown out my thoughts.

~o~

The next day, having done all my homework and not sleeping at all, I spend an extra hour primping. I wear a pair of tight black leather pants, a black long sleeved lace shirt, the same boots I wore on my first day, a pair of black fingerless gloves, my favourite black lace bra, a pair of mirrored sunglasses, and red vamp lipstick. My long black hair is pulled into a high ponytail. Ready for battle, I pop a stick of cinnamon gum into my mouth and walk out the door.

~o~

After Enola's disappearing act we had an impromptu sleepover at Stronghold's house. That night I break up with Jessica over the phone. Yes, I know that's a shitty move, but I don't think it's fair to Jessica to keep calling her my girlfriend and spend all my time thinking about Enola. What can I say; I'm king of justifying.

Listening at the keyhole put a whole new spin on our mystery girl. Enola's father was the only person the Commander has ever killed, and she watched it happen.

We all get on at Stronghold's stop, and few stops later, that's when I see her and I almost have a heart attack. I can almost hear AC/DC's _Back in Black_ playing as she walks down the aisle, she sits down in her regular seat next to me then promptly starts to ignore me. She has her headphones on and what sounds like heavy metal blasting into her eardrums. Through her lace top I can see her black bra and a pair of eyes tattooed on her shoulder blades, a bleeding heart flower tattooed between her breasts, plus a few others that I can't quite see without seeming like more of a creep then she already thinks I am. Holy fuck, there is a god. When the bus lands, me and every other guy watch her butt as she walks down the aisle, the way those leather pants hug and enhance every curve; I can see Popsicle practically breaking his neck to watch her. Then she walks away without a second glance and whatever renewed belief I felt in a god is dashed.

I trudge off to Mad Science. She's sitting at our lab bench reading a book, completely ignoring my very existence. She smells like cinnamon.

'Hey.'

'Fuck off.'

'Did you do the notes for Intro to String Theory?'

'Yes.'

'Can I copy?' she reluctantly slides the notes over before returning to her book. I look at the title, it's _The Prince_.

'My dad had that book.' She looks up, surprised. It's a well-known fact that I never talk about my father.

'Mine did too. It's a good book, you should read it.' She rewards me with a wry smile. 'Papa said it was important to be educated, so instead of reading me _Winnie the Pooh_ he read me Thomas Hobbes every night. One of the saddest facts of my existence is that I have never read a _Nancy Drew_ book.'

'Wow. That's...depressing.'

'Just another facet of my so-called life.' We stop talking unsure of what to say next.

'Nice ink.'

'Thanks. I got the bleeding heart on my thirteenth birthday as a kind of fucked up 'happy birthday to me', I got the eyes during the summer, I have a fob watch between my shoulder blades that I got a few years back for no real reason, the number thirteen I got since I figured my luck couldn't get any worse, the Ankh on my forearm was for my eleventh, and the words on my wrist I got for my tenth.' I stare at the words on her wrist trying to make out their meaning. 'Do you know what it means?'

'Not a fucking clue.'

'It's Latin. _Momento Mori_. Remember You Will Die.' She whispers it almost to herself more that anyone else. Then on comes the crackling P.A., which even though everything else in that school is top-of-the-line it still sounds about a hundred years old.

'Warren Peace please report to the Principal's office. Warren Peace.' She smirks at me

'Better go.' I just stare at her like a moron, 'I'll still be here. Go!'

'See ya Thirteen!' She laughs at the nickname.


	5. Chapter 5: The Fortress of Solitude

Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, Bang a Gong (Get it On), Bad Girls, or the Batman franchise.

Ahhh, I love the weekend. I'm standing in the middle of my kitchen wearing nothing but a man's white oxford shirt and black lace underwear set, with my hair pulled up on my head and fastened in a messy bun with rock music blasting through every speaker in the house. I start dancing wildly through the house, culminating in a wild air guitar to Blondie's _Bang A Gong_.

Back in the kitchen I start pulling out and prepping the ingredients for paella and bread simultaneously. As the paella simmers on the stove I start to knead the bread dough. I feel a hand on my shoulder, I grab my attacker by the arm, flip him over my shoulder onto the floor and pounce on him ready to beat him to a bloody pulp. Then I see his face. What. The. Fuck.

'Hey Thirteen. Didn't know you'd be so glad to see me.' Warren smirks

'What the fuck are you doing in my house?'

'I'm not totally sure, you'd better ask Layla.'

'Um... Do you guys want us to come back later?' Magenta asks from the doorway were everyone is crowded, staring at a partially dressed me sitting on Warren Peace's chest.

'Nope, we're good.' I say, rising from my squat and holding a hand out to Warren. 'So what are you doing here Red?'

'Well you weren't answering your phone, which isn't really a surprise considering how loud you've got this music. Anyway, I gathered up the gang to come over and see if you were okay.' Layla has the good grace to look embarrassed.

'Plus you really wanted to see my house.' I add

'Well...yeah. See the Fortress of Solitude and all that jazz.' Will says bashfully, 'Hey is something burning?' The paella was smoking on the stove. Shit.

'What's that? It smells really good.'

'Smelled, Zach. It smelled really good, then it was burned, now it'll taste like shit.' I gesture wildly with a chef's knife, 'Out. Get out of my kitchen.' Then Donna Summer comes on the speakers and all bets are off for me maintaing my dignity as I start a wild watusi and lip synch while trying to fix my burnt food.

_Bad girls_

_Talking about the sad girls_

_Sad girls_

_Talking about bad girls, yeah_

_See them out on the street at night, walkin'_

_Picking up on all kinds of strangers _

_If the price is right_

_You can't score if you're pocket's tight_

_But you want a good time_

_You ask yourself who they are_

_Like everybody else, they come from near and far_

They stare at me, mouths agape as I 'shake what my momma gave me'. But what's a girl to do? It's just one of those songs that whenever you hear it you wanna start dancing, so to occupy them I fish ginger beer and some lemon cake I made out of the fridge. They descend upon it like a pack of hungry wolves.

'So what are you making?' Warren asks

'Paella. It's almost as good as sex when it's done right.' I say ruefully as I give up and scrape the charred mess into the bin. 'I can teach you how to make it if you're interested.' He nods, 'Well then I've just got to put my bread dough into these pans and stick them in the oven, then we can get started.' We spend the next hour slowly preparing an extremely large batch, as I could foresee a large, self-invited dinner party, occasionally enlisting some of the others to stir or chop. When it's finished I offer Warren the spoon.

'Holy crap, that's good.'

'There was a reason I said it's as good as sex.' I have a taste, 'Wow, it's better then when I normally make it, I wonder why it's different?' I muse to myself, Warren wiggles his eyebrows and I elbow him in the side. 'If I have to invite you guys over every time I want to make excellent paella I'll go insane.' I pull out plates and start dishing up food. I watched as there was a small tussle between Will and Zach to get to the front of the line, during this I passed food to Layla, Magenta, Ethan, and Warren. I filled two plates and put them on the counter, but they are too involved in their mini cat fight to notice. We trooped into the dining room and sat down. I got up and got everyone more ginger beer and a glass of wine for myself.

The conversation consists of laughing, jokes, stories, and burns, both literal and figurative. Layla and I clear plates. We find everyone splayed out in the living room, with the projector and screen pulled out as Zach and Will raid my DVD collection of probably 300-plus DVDs, to be honest I've never counted. After some squabbling they settled on _Batman Returns_, it's my favourite, I have them all, even the awful ones with Val Kilmer and George Clooney. We stay up the rest of the night watching Batman movies.

I've always viewed people as puppets. It's hard not to when you have enough money to make what you want happen, and when money doesn't work my power turned a person into my personal Punch and Judys. This was a view encouraged by my parents and until I was eight I was kept away from other children. I never really had friends, but if I had to guess what friends were like this just might be it.


	6. Chapter 6: The Trouble with Handcuffs

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I haven't updated for yonks but my life has been kind of hectic recently. Now, for my beloved reviewers:**

**frozenangel1988: That is a tragedy that must be rectified. I recommend the recipe from that Spanish Table, but there are many others that are equally excellent.**

**Lettuce. : As my father tells me constantly, 'Patience, Grasshopper. All will be revealed in the fullness of time.' For clarification 'Red' is Layla, I was trying to do the story exclusively Enola and Warren P.O.V.s but I can try to work in some Layla too.**

**phoeb17: I totally agree, nothing is more off putting then a writer who doesn't take the time to spell check their story. Thank you for your complement.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own _Sky High_.**

I wake up on an unfamiliar couch with a hot, sweaty girl passed out beside me. It's Enola, so just to be safe I assess. We're both wearing clothes and the rest of the gang is passed out around us, so I'm safe. I poke her in the stomach and she cracks an eyelid.

'Whaaattt?' I smirk at her bleary eyed expression. she lifts her hands to pull her hair back up into a bun when we notice some new shared jewelry. Oh shit.

'ZACH!' We yell in unison. He rolls over and falls onto the floor with a thunk.

'What the hell?' I yell, towering over him, waving our newly handcuffed hands at him. She yanks our hands towards her face and slowly starts examining the cuffs.

'They were sitting on the coffee table and you guys looked so cute together I just couldn't resist.' He smirks and my arms start to flame up before a yell cuts me off.

'OW! What the fuck Warren? Just because we're connected doesn't mean I'm automatically fireproof.' I mutter an apology. 'Zach, where did you put the key?' He gestures to the coffee table.

'I put it by the magazine. Why do you even have handcuffs lying around anyways?' We all look to the spot he's indicated. There's no key.

'Oh no you didn't.' If looks could kill Zach would be sixty feet under and falling by now. 'I'm a teenaged girl who has a decent amount of money and lives by herself. You're a smart boy, what do you think I do with them?'

'It's not a problem, I'll just break them.' Will cuts in. She just smirks, with an 'I know something you don't know' look playing on the corners of her lips. He wraps his fingers around the chain and tugs with what must be all his might since he's going very red in the face. 'Why won't they break?' He mutters, looking very put out.

'They were made for a very... _special_... person in my father's life. They say he was the strongest man alive and he was never able to get out of them.'

'So then how'd he get out?'

'My father let him out, much like the Joker, Papa decided that his life was more interesting with him around. Unfortunately, this man did not feel the same way about Papa.' We all look stunned.

~o~

The rest of the week passes quickly, with me staying at Thirteen's place, we do everything together and we now know more about each other than any other people alive, for instance, I know she loves opera and classical music, she knows I prefer tea over coffee. By Monday we've got the moving around without ripping each other's arm off down, by Tuesday I no longer feel weird about sleeping in the same bed, by Wednesday she's comfortable using the bathroom with me in the room, by Thursday we've figured out how to get dressed, it's way harder for guys by the way, and yet, by Friday neither of us feel comfortable about bathing. So no, neither of us have had a bath all week save for a dousing some Hydro gave us.

'Screw this, I smell like New York during a garbage strike and you're no rosebud either. I'm not spending the rest of my life smelling like the boy's locker room. I lost my dignity long ago and I want a shower.' Yes she does smell like the boy's locker room and yes, she would know, since apparently I'm not allowed to change in some dark corner of the girl's but she's expected to change with a bunch of teenaged boys leering at her. She takes off her clothes and starts up the shower. All I can say is holy shit, I may have a higher tolerance then most guys but in the end I'm still a teenager. I sit on the floor and she washes herself with one hand. We talk, and all I can say is you haven't experienced the truly surreal until you've discussed the merits of socialism while handcuffed together with a bathing girl.

~o~

The gang comes over that weekend and Warren and I pull out a couple cases of beer and we proceed to get fairly drunk. After about an hour Magenta starts laughing at absolutely everything anybody says, Ethan starts explaining Schrödinger's Cat to Zach, who is randomly interjecting with declarations of love and has just gone on what must be his sixth trip to the bathroom. Red is screaming obscenities that I never thought she would know at Will who is proposing marriage to her by comparing her to his apparently universally hated ex. Warren is quietly sitting on the couch sipping his beer and would get classified as the 'Quiet Drunk', his hand-eye coordination was clearly off and he has a lopsided smile on his face, but other then that he was fine. As for me, well I could drink Marion Ravenwood under a table.

'I'm bored.' Zach whinges

'Let's play Truth or Dare.' The overly bubbly Magenta squeals. I can see where this is going and my heart sinks. Why oh why can I never get drunk without some shit like this happening? Maybe it's a sign.

'I'm in.' 'Whatever' 'Sure' 'What the fuck, why not?'

'But we need some way to keep it fair.' Christ, trust Layla to be concerned about fairness, even when she's plastered. Popsicle lets out a squeal that no man should ever make.

'Ohhh. Remember the lesson in Mad Science on Monday? Well, I grabbed some of Dr. Medulla's experimental truth serum.' In response to our quizzical looks Ethan says 'No you really don't want to know.' We all nod and take the proffered spoon, too drunk to ask if it is safe.

'Layla, Truth or dare?' Zach asks

'Truth.' She says decisively

'Have you ever had a sex dream about Lash?' She looks nervous about the question.

'Yes...' The guys gap at her and Will looks like he's about to say something but I cut him off.

'It's the arms. You can just imagine the stripes wrapping around your body.' Magenta nods enthusiastically. 'Will, truth or dare?'

'Truth.' He sounds slightly nervous.

'Have you ever planned or thought about committing a crime?'

'Are you kidding? No!' We all gape at him, even Red. 'Zach, truth or dare?'

'Dare.'

'Run around the block completely naked.' Zach gets up, grumbling about how perverted we all are and sets off on his run as we watch from the porch. When he gets back we all troop inside and settle back down. Zach's got a mischievous look in his eye.

'Enola, truth or dare?'

'Truth.' Just because you can't tell I'm drunk doesn't mean I don't make stupid choices.

'What were the handcuffs _really_ for?' Zach smirked. That is quite possibly the lamest question I've ever heard.

'I. Like. _Bondage_.' Honestly, is it still considered that far outside the norm? From the expressions on the other's faces I would guess yes. After a few more rounds of abysmal dares it's my turn. 'Layla, Truth or Dare?'

'Dare.' I go to the kitchen and grab a half-pound of bacon, cook it, and bring it back on a plate.

'Eat.' Layla cringes but wolfs it down.

'Ohhh, I forgot how good bacon is.' We all smirk. 'Truth or Dare, Enola?'

'Truth.'

'Why do you hate the Commander?' Fuck my life. I knew she was gonna ask a smart question like that.

'My parents had, shall we say, _lax_ morals.' Yeah and World War II was just a little skirmish. What can I say, I'm Queen of the Fucking Understatement. 'Um anyway, Papa didn't care about money or revenge like most other criminals, he just wanted to be noticed, to be feared, to be Great. And he was. Then the Commander beat him to death with a swing set when I was seven. Papa was picking me up from school when it happened so I got a front row seat. But that wasn't the worst part, people went around calling the Commander a Hero. He wasn't a murderer for what he'd done, he was a hero for ridding the earth of another piece of scum. It drove Mama insane. She had a breakdown and disappeared. And the rest is history.' Needless to say, the party broke up fairly quickly after that.


	7. Chapter 7: A Dream Within A Dream

**Author's Note: The poem is _A Dream Within A Dream_ by Edgar Allen Poe. I was really pleased and shocked by the fast response after I posted chapter six, thank you all! **

**Lettuce. : Thank you for making my day by telling me that I made your day. Yes, Zach is an ass, he always gave off a 'Lovable Ass' vibe to me. **

**Star: Thanks for your complement you're awesome. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Sky High_ or _A Dream Within A Dream_, I do however own The Society for Prevention and Re-Integration of Victims of Paternal Fuck-Ups. **

Deep down, even though I would never admit it, I had always thought the Commander was a hero, or at least a good guy, but this new revelation sent my view of not only him but the entire system of modern heroism into a tailspin.

In Maxville the Commander was the pinnacle of heroism, someone that most people only dreamed of equalling. Yet, it was possible that he had bludgeoned a man, however evil, to death in front of a school while the man's daughter watched.

When I'm sure Enola is asleep I grab my laptop from its place by her bed and start to surf the web, looking for any mention of the killing. It doesn't take long to find. A blog chronicling various super heroics. There it is, with a picture and everything; _COMMANDER DEFEATS 'THE MAN' AT LAST_. The picture shows a man, his face mangled beyond recognition, lying on the ground, he wears a black suit with a bright white shirt and black tie, the Commander can be seen off to the left, conversing with the then Police Chief. But what really drew me was a little girl, so far off to the side she was barely in the frame, being restrained by two police officers. Even though the photo was black-and-white the eyes of the girl are the same ones that have haunted my dreams since the day I met her.

I close my laptop and return it to its place and turn to look at the girl sleeping next to me. I am startled to find myself staring into her expressive grey eyes.

'When I was six Baron Battle slept in my closet for a week after he robbed MaxCent.' My father had disappeared for a week after he robbed the Maxville Central Bank. Missed my birthday too, the bastard. 'Mama told me he was participating in the Hide-and-Seek World Cup, so if anyone asked where he was I couldn't say. I thought it was the coolest thing in the world, I mean, I was _six_ and it was the _Hide-and-Seek World Cup_. I told him I wanted to be exactly like him when I grew up. He looked kinda shocked but laughed and told me he wouldn't hold me to that until I was older, I don't think anyone had every shown him the kind of admiration I did that week. Every night before I went to sleep he told me stories. Before him I didn't know jack about Cinderella or Snow White. He was my hero until I was ten. You know, he always named the princes in the stories Warren, no matter what they were called in the original version and always had your latest school photo to show off whenever he came around.' I smile but internally my gut is twisting with jealousy. How could this girl know my father better then I did, why was she the one he told bedtime stories to, why was she the one he tucked in each night, the one he gave cute-but-irritating pet names to. 'He called me Dinah because I told him cats were my favourite animals. He was the only person I've ever met that treated me as an equal.' I'm silent for a few minutes. 'I know this may seem like I'm intentionally rubbing the fact that I knew your father in your face, but I'm not. I just want you to know that just because he was a Bad Guy doesn't mean he was a bad guy. Just because he was a shitty father doesn't mean he doesn't love you.'

'My dad went to prison for the first time when I was three, my mother told me he was on a business trip. He missed or refused to acknowledge every birthday and Christmas I've ever had and given me a grand total of zero gifts and cards. I haven't laid eyes him since I was eight and haven't spoken to him since I was six. I'm pretty sure he's way past shitty father.' I'm being an asshole now and I know it, but I just can't stop. It's like I'm putting all the rage I feel for Baron Battle onto her. 'My mother was a hero, a legal secretary, and a single mother, and she tried to do everything perfectly, but something had to give, so she was a shitty mom. She never went to and school events, no parent-teacher days, no school plays. After he got arrested when I was ten my mother locked herself in her bedroom with a case of vodka and a 4 cartons of cigarettes for a week. That's the difference between you and me, your parents disgrace you while I disgrace my parents. My very existence is shameful, my mother seems to be a slut with no standards and my father is weak because he fucked a heroine. So don't you dare tell me that my father is a good person.' I turn and roll over onto my side, a movement whose meaning is undermined by the fact that my arm is stretched out behind me due to the handcuffs. Yes, I'm a petulant bastard when I want to be, I admit it. Suddenly, she rolls over and picks up a book off the floor, flicks on her bedside light and opens the book to a page. Her sultry voice fills the room. I don't know what it was, but at this moment something changes between us, something that once done cannot be undone. It crackles in the air around us.

'Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand-

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep- while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?'


	8. Chapter 8: The Boy Who Waited

**Author's Note: This Layla POV is for you Lettuce, but just so you know I suck at third person. Just sayin'. The poem is Sappho's Fragment LP 111. For my beloved reviewers, I love you all!**

**Rihimesama: I wanted to add some conflict that wasn't necessarily negative but changed their relationship in some way.**

**Stargazer1364: Yeah, I've noticed there are a lot of 'Baron Battle is an Asshole/Abusive Father/Psychopath/Sociopath/Bastard/Insert Bad Thing Here and I really wanted to do something that challenged the assumption that he was an awful person. I've always kinda felt that since they never really talked about Warren's mother she was somewhat absentee in his life.**

**Lettuce. : Edgar Allen Poe is, in my humble opinion, one of the best poets known to man.**

**frozenangel1988: I tried to think of as many awkward situations as possible that you could get yourself into by being handcuffed to another person. **

The Monday after they all got really drunk Layla started to notice small changes in her two friends' behavior, like the fact that they intertwined their fingers when they thought nobody was looking, or that they touched way more then two people, even two people handcuffed together, needed to, or that Enola was reading _Anna Karenina_ even thought Layla knew she hated Russian Literature with a passion, or that she caught Warren listening to The Velvet Underground even though he has repeatedly declared his loathing for Lou Reed. But apart from all these small insignificant things that could be brushed off as circumstantial, for the first time since Layla's known the two of them they're both happy, not Oh-That-Joke-Was-So-Funny happy, but really and truly _happy_, and that's _weird_. So Layla wants to know what the fuck's going on.

They walk down the hallway, pinkies brushing ever so slightly, she throws her head back in laughter at something he's said and it's clear to everyone but the two of them that he can't take his eyes off her. In Mad Science they're both bent over some project, their shoulders pressed together, their hair mingling together to form one glossy black waterfall, then it's her turn to say something and his turn to laugh. He had started to get her to play Save The Citizen, a game she had previously avoided by hiding in the corners and running laps, and they make a glorious team, moving in a synchrony that is almost eerie, they've beat his and Will's record in half the time. She's even started sitting with the little group for lunch again.

~o~

Layla catches them one day in an exceptionally intimate moment. It is not intimate in the sense that she caught them having sex, it was simply an intensely personal moment, which for some reason made her feel more invasive and ashamed then is it had been sex. They are sitting in what was now universally acknowledged to be 'their' tree, perch up in the branches, sitting across from each other, barely touching, he is wedged into the crook of a branch and she was sitting on a thick limb with their bags abandon at the foot of the tree. Her eyes were closed and a for the first time she appeared to be at peace, Layla might have mistaken her for dead had it not been for the fact that she was sitting upright in a tree. He has a book in his hand and is reading aloud in a scarcely audible voice that Layla can barely hear when she silences her breathing and strains her ears.

'Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters.

Like Ares comes the bridegroom,

taller far than a tall man.

Artists, raise the rafters high!

Ample scope and stately plan-

Mars-like comes the bridegroom nigh,

Loftier than a lofty man.

High lift the beams of the chamber,

Workmen, on high;

Like Ares in step comes the Bridegroom;

Like him of the song of Terpander,

Like him in majesty,'

It was so simple, so innocent, so vulnerable, words that Layla had never before associated with her two friends. Yet in some bizarre way, using someone else's words, they had managed to lay their souls completely bare to each other. Even though they were completely clothed they sat before each other in tree utterly naked.

~o~

They come to school the next day wearing buttons promoting the 'Society for Prevention and Re-Integration of Victims of Paternal Fuck-Ups'.

'So... We all want to know, what's with the buttons bro?' Zach finally asks halfway through lunch.

'Pay up Thirteen.' Warren smirks, she groans but Layla can see a smile playing on the corners of her lips. She slaps a twenty into his palm.

'It's the brainchild of three sleepless nights, two misspent, dysfunctional childhoods, and a bottle of vodka. We have buttons, want one? The only criteria for joining is that you have some sort of paternal grievance.' Layla sniffed, obviously she, Miss Save The World With Love And Political Correctness couldn't bee seen wearing a button that was the very antithesis of those values, despite the fact that her hippy father left her hippy-er mother pregnant to go cavorting in a commune in New Mexico. Magenta and Ethan both took buttons, and Will looked at them longingly but if Layla was Miss Save The World With Love And Political Correctness then Will was Mr All-American, Everything' Perfect All The Time, and therefore couldn't give off even a hint that there was imperfection in his life. Warren and Enola caught the look and shared a smirk. When the bell rings Warren tosses Will a button, which he deftly catches.

'Express yourself.' Enola says

'Thirteen, you didn't.'

'I did.'

'Madonna, really?'

'Most influential female performer of the twentieth century.'

'You know, I cannot believe I'm best friends with someone who just quoted Madonna.'

'You know you love me.' She laughs and links their fingers together, pulling him off to their next class.

~o~

We're sitting on the couch, Warren and I, watching an _Doctor Who_ marathon when it happens. I'm irritated by the Doctor's blatant refusal to acknowledge his feelings for Rose, and venting my feeling on said subject during a particularly intense moment of sexual tension.

'Jesus Christ, why can't they just fucking kiss already?'

'Because he loves her and doesn't want to hurt her and he knows that, despite what she promises, she'll eventually leave him.'

'Well then she should do something.'

'But she knows he's not ready for that, so she waits. She'd wait 'till the end of time for him if she had to.' I got the feeling we weren't talking about _Doctor Who_ anymore. ''Cause that's what you do for people you love.' He smiles at me and gently strokes my hair, then turns his attention back to the television. I try to make him understand without words how thankful I am that he'll wait for me, he'll wait for me to warm up to him, he'll wait for me to trust him, he'll wait for me to deal with my shit, he'll wait for me to figure it all out, he'll wait for me to tell him I love him, and I'll do the exact same thing for him.


	9. Chapter 9: Mea Culpa

**Author's Note: I got the autopsy idea from _Heroes_, I'm not going to mimic the scene in any other way then the fact that both Enola and Claire both regenerate on an autopsy table, but I feel the need to give credit where credit is due. I know it's kind of grim the way she opens her chest up to look at her innards but I felt she would do some sort of self-punishment since she can't die but feels she deserves the (I don't cut myself on the off chance my mother or some other concerned party is reading, I'm just guessing what she may feel like and what her motivations might be.). Incase I'm not clear the first quote 'Do not try to live forever, you will not succeed' is George Bernard Shaw, the second quote, ''Life is a gift, precious and short, not to be wasted by jumping off a roof is from _Heroes_ (Has anyone noticed there aren't any _Sky High_/_Heroes_ crossovers? I know odd...). I'm going away for two weeks to Paris so I won't be able to update.**

**JudySaysHi: Thank you so much! It really means something to me that even people who aren't necessarily familiar with the fandom still enjoy my work. Thank you.**

**Stargazer1364: Yeah, I always felt that Warren had a soft side that he couldn't show, since if he did he'd probably be eaten alive since he's a villain's kid. Yeah, I wish for the perfect guy too, but you know... Layla was incredibly nosey, she was never mean about it she just wanted to know _everything_ that was going on in everyone's lives to live vicariously through them (But I'm really not in any position to point fingers...).**

**The-Little-Angel-With-Horns: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy it.**

**Lettuce. : Thank you. **

**WerardGay: Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

**Attention: I've decided to change Enola's last name from Cain to Makropulos, this was always what I wanted to call her mother but in the first chapter she's Enola Cain, which doesn't make sense if nobody knows her father's real name. I'll try and repost the chapters with some changes soon.**

My world was slowly spiraling out of control because of this _girl_, this wonderful, fantastic, bizarre, mysterious girl who I had fallen totally and irrecoverably in love with. Enola was dressing (I had finished already) and we were talking. She just finished putting her bra on and I notice a Y-shaped scar down her front, the two prongs starting at her collarbone, joining under the tip of the bleeding heart tattoo and continuing down below the waistband of her underwear. It is a white ridge that stands out starkly against her already pale skin

'What happened there?' She seems hesitant to answer. From the shadows that cross her eyes it is not a happy tale, it seems to more clearly deserve the title of a living nightmare.

'When I discovered my second power...' Her voice trails off then returns with force as she re-starts her story, 'This girl..._Penny_ died,' She corrects herself 'it was my fault. I was really mad at her, I had just caught her making out with my first boyfriend. I was playing the piano and thinking about how much I wanted to kill her, it sounds a little over dramatic now but I was ten and like all stupid first timers I thought he was 'The One'. Next thing I knew there was screaming and she was dead. She'd jumped off the roof. I wasn't even there but I had a sickening feeling that it was my fault. I pushed it to the back of my mind for a year, a whole year, a year that killed me, eventually I couldn't take it anymore and I, rented a hotel room, took every pill I owned, slit my wrists, and took a bath. I woke up a week later on an autopsy table in the middle of and examination, my torso had been opened and my ribs sawed out, I nearly gave the M.E. a heart attack when he had his probe-y thing in my intestines and suddenly I sat up gasping for air. It would have been funny had it not been quite honestly the second scariest moment of my life. I bribed the Medical Examiner not say anything and left, then I jumped off a bridge and got up and walked away without any problems.' She slides her arm into the sleeve of her one-armed long-sleeved top. 'I reopen it sometimes just to take a look, since I do it so often it doesn't heal completely it just scars. I've even stopped ageing. _I_ killed her because I thought I was in love with some fuckhead who couldn't keep his pants on. It was my fault she died. _All my fault_. And _that's_ the truth.' Her rage and self-loathing are evident and we lapse into silence for several minutes. I think back to something she once told me in a fit of pique and repeat it to her.

'The truth is an illusion, just random bullshit we tell ourselves to get to sleep at night. The truth is what we make of it, what _we_ decide it to be.' I smile thinly, trying to break the tension.

'Touché.' I think back to her tattoos, remembering how she explained the meaning of the one that I had previously thought to be insignificant in comparison to the others but which I now realise to be the most important.

'So the girl who can't die has a constant reminder of her impending demise tattooed onto her skin.'

'Ahh, so you caught the irony.' She fingers the tattoo thoughtfully, 'But do not doubt I _will_ die eventually. I have it there to remind me that despite my seeming immortality I _will_ die one day. Do not try to live forever, you will not succeed.' She speaks with a conviction and welcoming that makes me wonder if she hopes the day will come sooner rather then later.

'Wise words.' We amble through the kitchen and sling our bags over our shoulders. I grab an apple and she forgoes food entirely.

'George Bernard Shaw.' She smiles wanly. 'If I cannot die the least I can do is remember.'

'Who said that? Bernard Williams?'

'Me.' the corners of her lips twitch. 'I can be pretty fucking profound when I want to be.' I laugh and she breaks out in a rare grin, one that does not have the same vaguely insane quality that her smiles so often posses.

'Life is a gift, precious and short, not to be wasted by jumping off a roof. See, I can be profound too.' As always, our comments on each other are disguised by metaphors, quotes, and TV characters.

'Who said that?' She asks curiously, she understands what I mean, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.

'Hiro Nakamura.' She smirks, but is distracted by the bus pulling away from the curb.

'We're going to be late.'

'Tsk, tsk, so pessimistic.' I grip her hand and we run, we catch the bus, but strangely I don't care, I almost wish we hadn't, even though I push this feeling deep down inside me. We're together and we're running hand in hand. And I wish for the moment to never end, but it does, all too soon it ends.


End file.
